


The Tale of Three Apples

by zephyrprince



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Arab Character, Bahrain, Bahraini character, British source, Character of Color, Female Arab character, Female Character of Color, Gen, Kuwaiti character, Manama, Muslim Character, Original Characters - Freeform, Yemeni character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-08-26
Updated: 2011-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-11 06:29:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephyrprince/pseuds/zephyrprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ali Bashir had come a long way in life, he reflected as he reclined in this seat for the first time.  It was a long way indeed from his early '90s days of pushing and prodding trying to get any product he could into any market that would open for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got really involved in planning this and building the original characters but obviously it's not complete. However, I am definitely excited to unveil just the tip of the beginning for this year's eid-ka-chand challenge! Eid mubarak!

The single door at the end of the small room swung open and a man in a grey suite entered. He moved slowly but with purpose, pulling the chair out and sitting across the square table from Ali. He produced a notebook, ink and bamboo pens from his bag and adjusted his glasses.

"Why don't we start with your first day at Manama Trading Group?"

Ali Bashir looked the man in the eye. He paused, pursing his lips, which caused his long beard to flutter beneath his face. He opened them again. And he began to tell his story…

\-----

Ali Bashir sat down at a long imported oaken desk in the corner of a large open and mostly empty room. He had come a long way in life, he reflected as he reclined in this seat for the first time. It was a long way indeed from his early '90s days of pushing and prodding trying to get any product he could into any market that would open for him. Today, twenty years later, he had managed to transform the small ragtag gang that had made up his boutique import-export group into The Division for International Magical Artifacts and Recreations, a part of the extensive Manama Trading Group. It was a near legendary Bahraini trade empire, one of the largest in the region, and they'd just bought the rights from him to integrate their business into the greater structure of the company, paying him off handsomely and moving them into this fine new space just today.

He glanced around the large rectangular office to the wide table looked down upon by pliant lamps and magnifying glasses for their magical archaeologist on staff – Rawiyah. She was the least pleased with the impending transition and had always been dubious of pursuing her scholarship for monetary means.

In contrast, her academic counterpart, Thara, was a more bookish and far less politicized historian, who was happy just to be along for the ride if it meant the opportunity to further her knowledge of the past. She would occupy the corner of the space where two wooden structures, one a honey comb shape and one more like a traditional bookshelf, would magically file away all her materials from books to scrolls, inscribed stone and more.

Ziyad, the third member of their troupe, would have a workshop space, separated off from the library area by an antique Achaemenid handrail that had been enchanted to project a forcefield which would block spells that might bounce off from his work. Ziyad was the magical engineer of the group, in charge of breaking down the secrets held in the objects they recovered from their travels and ultimately finding a way to reproduce them for sale to the magical masses.

Ali's ocular tour of the room then left only one more seat, that of his second in command and cousin, Jafar Bashir, who occupied a desk more modest than his but by no means small, set against the windowed wall slanted from him. Together, it was their role to sell the goods produced and the pair of them were exceptionally talented

The space also had a new innovation the Manama group was just piloting – a mobile stall window that could be opened and closed to reveal multiple outside locations, each in major regional urban centers where they were expected to do the most business – Doha, Muskat, and Kuwait City. The technology was new so this was the limit of their scope for now, but, even so, it had proved quite controversial as all questions even touching upon regional integration were those days. For his part, Ali was just glad to be there, he stretched his arms as his staff began to trickle in and find their way around the new place.

The last to arrive, though, was Jafar, whom, when he finally did come in, was dragging and enormous trunk in his wake.


	2. Chapter 2

The trunk hung, suspended in light above the large wooden work table in the engineering portion of the office. Ziyad flicked his wand and it began to spin rapidly, first clockwise and then counter-clockwise as he and Thara assessed it for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“I’m at my whit’s end, nothing is working,” he moaned, flicking at it again and sending the hulking object into rotation again on a slanted axis.

Thara, who had been consulting a relatively contemporary-looking book, slammed the tome shut and looked back up.

“The closest reference I have yet been able to find is in the British reports of the school days of Harry Potter, a boy who defeated one of the greatest dark western wizards in recent history.”

Ziyad raised an eyebrow. Though the ripples of Second Wizarding War of Great Britain had hardly been felt in Bahrain, he along with most had heard some news of those events. Ziyad had even felt a sense of affinity with the boy as he had recalled the admittedly dissimilar struggles of his own youth in Yemen.

“It seems that one of the boy’s professors, Alastor Moody, was in possession of a trunk bearing ten locks that opened onto ten different compartments. Evidently, he was actually imprisoned in one of them himself,” she said slightly wistfully in a way that hardly complimented Ziyad’s frustration. “Anyhow, as you can see, this one is ornamented by three locks in much the same fashion.”

“Thanks, Thara,” Ziyad said with a sarcasm that seemed to escape his partner as she smiled slightly and nodded her veiled head. He mumbled, “I wonder if his trunk was also built to withstand _alohomora_ and every other lock-breaking spell on the books.”

“I’m not sure.”

Ziyad led out a small scoff, spinning the trunk faster.


End file.
